The Militia
by Kumiru-san
Summary: Hadrian Dawson lives his life in the shadows, constantly hiding behind a mask. Unexpectedly, he attracts the attention of Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy and, through them, of a certain Dark Lord. Welcome to the Militia, Harry.  LVHP SSDM Slash Dark!Harry
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** The Militia

**Summary:** Hadrian Dawson lives his life in the shadows, constantly hiding behind a mask. Unexpectedly, he attracts the attention of Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy and, through them, of a certain Dark Lord. Welcome to the Militia, Harry. LVHP SSDM Slash

**Tags:** LVHP, SSDM, Slash, Dark!Harry,

**Dislaimer:** I don't own anything, except the idea for this story.

_**A/N: **__**This is the one time were I will write anything which is not the story itself in here, unless something really important comes up. If you want to find out anything specific, or ask any questions, drop me a review!**_

**Chapter 1**

_The next step in the Animagus Transformation involves the aptly named Encounter. This is a crucial step in the transformation which varies in difficulty from person to person. As mentioned in previous chapters, the Animagus reveals part of a Wizard's inner core in its acquisition and identification, and oftentimes a Wizard finds himself unable to cope with the revelations. However, if one is comfortable with himself, and what he finds throughout the process, then the Encounter may well be a pleasant experience during which..._

Hadrian closed the book –_Animagus—_ with a snap as he heard footsteps approaching his work space in the library. This development was rather rare; he had rapidly taken over this area during his first year at Hogwarts, scaring any others which tried to intrude or being just generally antisocial. Within a week, the word had spread out, and he was not bothered anymore except by the unusual First-Year who had not yet learned better. It was not often that one of the other students approached it. It was out of the way and inconspicuous, precisely the reasons for which Hadrian had chosen it; it was the closest thing to privacy which he could obtain in a place as allergic to privacy as Hogwarts was.

He quickly set the book apart and under a History tome, hiding the cover from view, and opened a Herbology book which he'd been reading earlier.

The footsteps which approached were fast, sure but soft. The person clearly was confident in that they knew where they were going and in their reason for going there. Furthermore, they didn't sound as if they would even care enough to announce their approach rather than just barging in and for Hadrian, this spelled nothing but trouble.

The person actually entered into his line of vision a few seconds later, the blonde hair falling around his pointed face with a lax grace that few outside the Malfoy line would ever achieve. Hadrian kept his face narrowed on the book, pretending not to have noticed the blonde boy in his complete absorption of the book as the boy stopped in front of Hadrian's desk, while instead maintaining the other boy firmly in view through his peripheral vision.

The Malfoy heir did not move or make a sound for a few seconds longer, and Hadrian wondered if the boy was merely biding his time until Hadrian noticed him or actually doubted his reasons for coming here. He sincerely hoped it was the latter; but, after a few more seconds of Malfoy not doing anything, Hadrian started to get uncomfortable and decided to break the blonde's obvious observation of him. He turned his head up slightly, as if he had just awoken from a trance; he trailed his eyes upward, taking in the other boy's appearance slowly until he reached the pale grey eyes. As soon as their gazes locked, he yelped and jumped backwards; causing his chair to fall and the book he'd been pretending to read to fall noisily on the table.

For an instant, he worried that he'd overstepped the boundaries of the act, and carefully scrutinized Malfoy's expression with wide, fear-impregnated eyes. It was a habit which he had carefully cultivated in himself, that perpetual worry, so that he would never get too comfortable in his acting. The uncertainty in his own limits was both a barrier and a magnet which were very important to the upkeep of his mask.

He didn't want to get too carried away in his acting so that the mask might actually be identified by others as a mask, due to it being too unbelievable otherwise; he also didn't want to lose himself in it, _become_ the mask. It was a delicate balance, dangerous but exciting, and Hadrian loved it.

Now, Malfoy's expression adopted the exasperated aloofness that Hadrian knew meant Malfoy had believed his role as the strange, uninteresting nerd. With anyone else, the worry would be almost inadequate, since they were the kind of people which would never care to change their initial impression of others. Hadrian could have not acted at all in front of them, and their own minds would do all the work for him, supplying information or even making it up so that the initial image of his was unchanged. Sometimes, Hadrian really appreciated the short-sightedness and inherent laziness in most people.

However, Malfoy was not most people, and Hadrian had more than once caught the blonde looking at him with a strange keenness, as if searching for an illusive wisp of _something_ in him. It was unnerving, more so because Hadrian was well-aware that Malfoy was smart enough and well-connected enough that, if he took an actual interest in Hadrian, his mask wouldn't last for a month under the careful inspection he knew the Malfoy heir capable of. His mask was as near perfect as Hadrian had, in his 3 years of molding, been able to make it; but it was still not perfect, and so Hadrian yelped and lowered his eyes and adopted the most pathetic body language he could –drooping his shoulders, eyes falling, fiddling with the edge of his shirt— so that Malfoy would not look too hard. He knew that the blonde would never dirty himself in the loathsome filth that Hadrian worked so hard to radiate from his mask whenever Malfoy was near him, and that dirt kept him safe from too-close scrutiny. It bit at his pride, just a little, but he knew it was necessary.

Malfoy cleared his throat, and Hadrian tensed at the impatient, disgusted tone.

"Professor Snape wants you in his quarters, Dawson. I'm to lead you there right now; pick up your books quickly so we can get going. Some of us actually have a life."

Hadrian nearly snapped back "Clearly you wouldn't know anything about that," but he bit his tongue. He nodded shakily, quickly grabbing The Herbology book and stuffing it into his bag. He grabbed the Animagus book and the History one at the same time, maintaining the Animagus book hidden, and those two he also quickly packed. He then turned to Malfoy and nodded bleakly. "I'm ready to go."

When he'd began to fathom his mask, Hadrian had been forced to actually create it as if it were a character from a book he was planning to write. The qualities that he wanted it to have he wrote down in a notebook; mostly it was the more generalized aspects, since he clearly wasn't able to decipher the exact reaction he should've had in every situation. He also wrote down the qualities that the mask should not have; he'd written down, as a sort of exercise, a few scenarios and tried to imagine what he should be like, what his mannerisms should entail, what his speech patterns should reveal and hide.

He wondered, for a few weeks, if what he was attempting was not too much for him, a strange fantasy that he would eventually have to tear down and remake from scratch. But once he had started bringing out the mask into the sunlight, he had discovered a factor which had previously evaded his equations.

Before, he'd simply been playing on his own evident characteristics as the reasons for the necessity of the mask; he wanted to remain in the shadows, wanted simply to observe rather than to take part in disputes, wanted to learn from the world around him as the spider on the wall does, with no one looking his way and no one to remember the path that he'd taken, until well after he'd disappeared.

Then, he'd discovered he loved the mask.

Not this precise mask, surely; it was very weak at times, crumbling into itself when Hadrian wanted instead to lash out viciously, rolling away piteously when Hadrian would've preferred to kill. No, he did not love this mask, but he did love acting. And what could have been a more perfect, more complete performance than this? Since clearly no one was capable of going into his mind and searching, then Hadrian was able to perform to the outmost of his capabilities. No one knew he was an actor, so no one would comment on his acting except to sneer and draw back from the filthy Mudblood which they sometimes were forced to communicate with, as Malfoy was in this moment.

It is a human quality to trust in appearances; one cannot go through the world doubting everything one sees and hear and remain happy. Paranoia, fear and depression come with such skepticism, and most people are not strong enough to sustain that strain without crumbling. Therefore, as long as Hadrian did not particularly _force_ his hand in some substantial way, it was safe to say that no human, be it Muggle, Witch or Wizard, was too likely to see past the deception.

Then, there were those who were just a bit more observant, just a bit smarter. Hadrian had hoped that he would not meet any such people while at Hogwarts, or if he did, that they would not be interested enough in him to actually study _him_. Unfortunately, there was Malfoy. The blonde was most likely not entirely aware of what he saw as _off_ in Hadrian; he might not even consciously be searching, but Hadrian could see it, and that was enough for the warning bells to ring every time he saw the blonde. Fortunately, Malfoy was still young and so still largely prejudiced. Hadrian was not overly worried.

They walked out of the Library quickly, Malfoy taking long steps as if Hadrian was the one following him around like a lost puppy. Hadrian trailed behind him, often tripping on his feet as he tried to keep up with the clearly annoyed blonde. In his mind, however, he was going down a list of reasons why Snape might want to talk to him.

_There's always the potions assignments, _he thought as they walked; but he knew that it would not be anything as innocent as that. He quickly discarded it and a new option popped in his head. _Malfoy's presence isn't a coincidence, or a whim. He must want him there. _He licked his teeth in a nervous gesture which he'd been unable to rid himself of, even after years of trying; it was not often that Snape called him down to his quarters. In fact, it had only happened once before, when Hadrian had answered a question which, had he actually been as dumb as he appeared to be, he should not have had any idea about. In fact, every single other person had gotten it wrong, and Hadrian had only known the answer due to the fact that, earlier that day, he'd read about it in an obscure Charms book which he's been looking into to find a charm to change his physical size. He hadn't been sleeping well in those days; he hadn't noticed the slip until Snape had called him on it in the privacy of his quarters after classes.

That had been the first true test of Hadrian's mask; it was the first time he'd had to submerge himself so deep into the mask that he himself could no longer see the surface. Snape was older, more experienced and more mature than the children Hadrian lived with. He was colder, sharper and more skeptical. Hadrian had known, as soon as the man's dark eyes locked on him, that it would take all of his acting skills and concentration to pull it off. Even now, he wasn't sure he'd actually brought it off; Snape had let him go after listening to his rather paltry excuse, but his eyes had since then every once in a while trained in on him at seemingly random times. During meals, in the halls, in class, sometimes Hadrian would feel a twitch and look up, and his gaze would meet Snape's. Sometimes, the man looked disgusted, although whether with Hadrian or himself, he was not sure. Other times he looked angry. Then, there were the times when he looked thoughtful. Hadrian always looked away quickly in those times, fearful that the man would somehow see through his eyes and into his mind and drag out Hadrian's mask, destroying it as the full glare of the sunlight hit it, exploding into a barrage of glorious sparks which would burn Hadrian to a crisp. So far, however, nothing had happened.

Until now.

_Have I done something wrong? _They were not too far from the dungeons now, and Hadrian felt a trickle of dread creep up on him. _Have I slipped anywhere? _He tried to think back to all encounters which he'd had with Snape—in the classroom, in the halls—but came it empty with anything which would incriminate him. He gripped his bookbag tightly against his side, noticing faintly that Malfoy's steps were turning shorter and calmer as they began to go down the longer stairway which led to Snape's quarters. The blonde had not turned once during their decidedly long walk from the Library to the dungeons, no doubt relying on the sound of Hadrian's footsteps to remain aware of the other boy. Hadrian, giving up on the matter or Snape now that there was no time, took in the blonde as the boy's manner softened further.

It took him less than a second to realize that something was off in Malfoy. Hadrian prided himself in being able to spot emotions and specify reactions in all kinds of people and in all kinds of situations. It was an ability he'd had to develop masterfully to be able to properly formulate his mask, and now he pressed it fully onto Malfoy in the few moments he had.

Within an instant, the _wrongness_ clicked.

_He's not acting impatient anymore._

And that was the key word; _acting_. The possibilities immediately flooded Hadrian's brain. Malfoy had been acting before, when he'd showed disgust at Hadrian's mask, when he'd snapped at Hadrian to hurry up. He hadn't actually been impatient at all; in fact, Hadrian reasoned, the blonde probably had been reading Hadrian's own act and reacting accordingly. He'd been acting in accordance to Hadrian's own acting, throwing prompts so that Hadrian would see what he wanted to see.

This thought process caused a sudden spike of fear inside him, and he stopped seven steps before Snape's door, the darkness around him suddenly settling like a blanket. In front of him, Malfoy stopped suddenly too.

"I win."

The smooth, silky voice rang out from behind Hadrian like the knife of a guillotine, cutting off the staircase which Hadrian had been moments away from using to escape. He turned, his green eyes widening in sudden panic as Snape seemed to materialize from the wall of the staircase, his figure towering over Hadrian's in the uneven footing. Malfoy's voice behind him made him press his back instinctively against the wall as his mind reeled. The two men appeared to ignore him.

"Only by two."

"I still win."

The light banter gave Hadrian the seconds he needed to regain his composure and his voice; he turned his head to Snape, gripping his wand in his bag but keeping it hidden from view, keeping his back to the wall.

"Win what?"

Snape's black eyes turned to him, expressionless and yet something like relief seemed to emanate from the man. His posture was somehow relaxed—for Snape— and Hadrian found himself relaxing very slightly as well, despite the clear danger of the situation.

"Draco and I made a bet on which step you would stop. Draco bet that it would be after the sixth. I bet that it would be before the sixth. You stopped on the seventh, therefore I win."

Hadrian couldn't quite believe his ears as he listened to Snape. Then his rattled brain actually processed the information.

"I…see." He tried to get a grasp on the situation, watching Malfoy's vaguely amused expression and Snape's slightly more serious one. "You knew I would figure it out?" he was guessing by this point, but he had no idea what was happening and was prepared to stall for time, if he needed it. He wasn't even aware of what Snape and Malfoy were planning; only that he'd been brought rather spectacularly – and easily, he thought with an internal grimace – into a trap. Of what kind, he was not yet sure; he could only hope that it would not end badly for him. As it was, he already felt rather stupid for not realizing sooner.

Snape looked at him with a strange expression for a moment before nodding to Malfoy. The blonde walked down the last few steps and opened the door to Snape's quarters, stepping inside lightly but staying in view. He turned and looked expectantly up at Hadrian. The raven turned and looked at Snape, who gestured with a nod to the door. Deciding that there was nothing he could do otherwise, Hadrian stiffened his shoulder, gripped his wand tighter and walked down the last few steps slowly, pausing at the door. Snape came down beside him, remaining behind slightly. _So that I can't run_.

"Please, come in."

Snape's voice, welcoming and yet also a light order, pushed Hadrian the last step into the quarters. Snape stepped in and the door closed, locking magically. Hadrian's breathing turned shallow as the feelings of helplessness and ignorance swirled inside him. He didn't know what was going on, what to expect; he had no idea how he should act.

He watched with desperate keenness as Snape and Malfoy had a short conversation through their gazes, which Hadrian could only guess at. Finally they seemed to come to an agreement as Malfoy bent his head slightly towards Snape, as if in salutation. Snape also performed the same action, reminiscent to Hadrian strangely of an action which he himself was prone to give to those who he found himself respecting. It was a sign of acknowledgement, and yet also slightly submissive in nature, and before this moment Hadrian had thought it a strange feature of his own which no one else did. Clearly, this was not the case, and he felt anticipation build inside him and both Malfoy and Snape focused their sharp, intelligent gazes on him. Finally, Snape spoke, his voice low and airy.

Hadrian tensed.

"Hadrian Dawson. What do you know about the '_Militia'?_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_"Hadrian Dawson. What do you know about the 'Militia'?"_

_

* * *

_

It was a vague question. Hadrian wasn't sure what Snape was implying with his seemingly innocent question. Was the Militia an organization? Was it an object? Was Hadrian expected to know about it? And if he was, then why _wasn't_ he aware of it? Because Hadrian knew what the word meant, as a military regiment, but that was clearly not the answer Snape was looking for.

So Hadrian went with the safest route available, keeping his voice level and unassuming.

"I am sure that I do not know what you are talking about."

Snape's eyes narrowed very slightly on Hadrian before he shot a glance at Malfoy; the blonde shook his head. Snape's lips tightened minutely with what Hadrian thought was frustration—it was gone too fast, there was no way to be certain—before his whole expression relaxed in one swift moment. He walked over to the middle of his room and sat down gracefully on one of the couches which surrounded a small fireplace. His manner screamed tiredness to Hadrian, who felt the terrifying shock from being hurled into such a strange position start to dissipate and his innate curiosity rise to the surface; the situation was too strange and unusual for him to be sure what was right and what was expected, but he enjoyed the challenge.

Snape nodded to them. "Please. Come sit."

Malfoy immediately complied, walking over and letting his body drop into the larger couch directly in front of Snape's; his posture remained stiff. Hadrian hesitated for a moment before complying as well, sitting in the space next to Malfoy on the couch.

There was an uncomfortable silence which Hadrian used to study Snape's manner. He didn't even try to be subtle about it, even when he was painfully aware of Malfoy's own inspection. After a few seconds, Snape's gaze trailed to Hadrian and locked onto his eyes forcefully. Hadrian straightened instinctively, clutching his bookbag closer to his side. His grip on his wand, which he'd kept a tight hold of since entering the room, loosened lightly, but he kept it within his grasp.

"You are rather advanced in your Animagus transformation, Hadrian," Snape said, his expression revealing nothing as he spoke.

Hadrian blanched. He'd been sure that no one knew of his study in the Animagus transformation; he had never told anyone, and he took the outmost care to make sure that at any instant when he was either practicing or studying, there were privacy wards and silencing spells all around him. Clearly Snape knew, as he had just mentioned the fact, but the question was, how?

Hadrian could only guess at why Snape had revealed this tidbit of information to him, but he was fairly certain that it was a, indirect sort of invitation. To what, Hadrian was not yet sure. He made no motion to speak. Snape's expression turned vaguely unfocused as his eyes traveled to the fireplace, where a vivid yellow flame danced flamboyantly.

"The magical world is a vast place, as I am sure you are aware." Hadrian nodded lightly, not knowing if Snape would see the gesture, and waiting to see where he would go with the seemingly random comment. "The reaches of magic's power are unknown, even to those who have dedicated their entire lives to the study and exploration of it; some have even dedicated various generations to the task, and yet failed.

However, every once in a blue moon, a Wizard is born who is extraordinarily gifted and intelligent; this Wizard manages to uncover secrets about magic which have lain hidden for millennia and bring them to light." Snape brought a hand to his neck and touched a spot above his collarbone lightly. "The knowledge this Wizard acquires is, understandably, guarded very jealously."

Hadrian listened, interested despite himself. He was not sure where this was going, but he had time, if nothing else; besides, people always revealed part of themselves when they talked, and this was a rare opportunity to learn from the usually fortressed Potions Master.

The flames crackled.

"I have such knowledge," Snape said quietly, his eyes shining with the firelight. Hadrian felt a chill run up his spine. "Not acquired by myself, of course, but extended to me by an…acquaintance. It is not much, I will grant, but what I do know are facts about magic that are largely ignored or regarded as uncontrollable, unknowable factors. They are not, evidently, but the Wizarding world's lack of understanding in such matters, gives to the one who is in a position similar to my own," he turned sharp eyes to Hadrian, "a huge, significant advantage."

Hadrian knew what Snape was not saying. He was not sure he liked it, but the insinuation called to him like a siren.

"What do you want from me?" he said, swiftly deciding it was best to have the obscurities laid out in the open rather than drifting around in the background. He was not feeling particularly mentally capable at the moment; the lingering shock was still too great, and he had no footholds with which to be able to stand alongside Snape in this unknown game the man was playing. He did not know the rules, nor the aim of this conversation; he also had no leverage on the players, and as such could not hope to even attempt to play. He was too unprepared to properly dance, and so he dropped the more carefully constructed mask, replacing it with a much simpler, closed-off replica.

Malfoy turned to him. "_We_ would like to offer you information." His voice was colder and deeper than Hadrian had ever heard it. He turned to the Malfoy heir, feeling shock run through him as he took in the blonde's hard, icy eyes. He'd never seen Malfoy, or any other student, hold such a cold, emotionless gaze in his eyes. It wasn't perfect, as he could detect the uncertainty and nervousness at the edges, but it was good enough to rival his own mask's limits. The blonde's veil simply focused on exuding coldness, rather than meekness.

"We know things about magic, about people; about _you_, things which are interesting, to say the least." Malfoy smiled thinly. "We ask in return that you stay and listen. Of course, we will first make a proposition." Malfoy's eyes swept to Snape, but continued to address Hadrian. "What you choose is your decision to make, and we will respect that; we ask only that you think about it very carefully."

Hadrian looked between them. Snape's eyes were trained on him, while Malfoy's were trained on Snape.

"If I were to decline the offer?"

He wasn't planning to decline; truthfully, he wasn't planning on anything at the moment, since he had so little information it bordered on not having any at all. However, he wanted to know if they would insist on keeping him here through the use of force if necessary. There wasn't anything to blackmail him with, not really; they'd clearly been aware of the mask since before –although how, Hadrian still needed to find out—and since they hadn't told anyone about it, then there had to be an ulterior motive keeping their mouths shut.

And what information did they have? He was largely interested on what they could tell him about magic; in fact, it had taken an embarrassingly large amount of his will-power not to agree to the arrangement instantly, and he aknowledged the fact with some annoyance.

Malfoy's injection on knowing information about_ him_, intended undoubtedly as a bonus to what Snape was offering, also called his attention. Granted, it could be facts that Hadrian had already known which would not serve him in the least, but the fact that they had presented the knowledge of information as the prime bait testified to the fact that they knew just how much he craved knowledge. It had been a while since he'd felt like someone saw through him at all, and as his gaze met with Snape's again, he felt some of his incredulity and stubbornness against the proposal crumble.

"If you were to decline right now, we would be most disappointed. However," here Snape's eyes shone with light amusement, "we would not force you to stay here against your will."

Hadrian felt another, lighter current of shock run through him at the strange easiness which Snape seemed to feel around him, even as he relaxed minutely at the raven's assurance of liberty. Granted, Malfoy seemed exceedingly tense, judging by his posture and way the blonde's eyes kept on focusing on him with a harshness that seemed unnecessary to Hadrian. There was clearly something they knew that he didn't, and until such a time as he _did_, then he could not entirely bend to what they were asking. He wasn't even sure _what _they were asking, anyways. He narrowed his eyes.

"I must admit that I am much too interested on what you may be willing to say, to leave just yet," Hadrian said, his voice slow as he measured each word carefully. "What are your conditions?"

Snape's lips twitched in what could possibly be construed as a smirk. "While I would be most willing to trust you on a promise…"

"…_I_ would not." Malfoy cut in sharply, his voice as hard as his eyes as he glared at Snape. Snape simply gazed back, and once again Hadrian had the impression of being left out of a conversation. He did, however, sometimes catch an expression flashing through their eyes.

Anger, resentment, sadness. Surprise, shock. Amusement.

Knowing. Severity, sternness. Affection, fondness; _love_.

Hadrian drew his eyes away from Snape's rapidly, feeling his cheeks burn as they hadn't in years. He felt as if he had accidentally peeked in through a neighbors' window and caught a couple having sex. The expression which had travelled through Malfoy's and Snape's gazes was not as heated, but felt even more intimate than such an action would.

Malfoy turned to Hadrian then; his gaze was softer than before even as his voice did not change, clearly misconstruing Hadrian's blush as hurt over their doubt of him. Hadrian did not mind, pushing the color forcefully from his cheeks as he felt a slight disgust in his incapability to mask the reaction. He attributed it to the unusualness of the entire situation.

"Do understand, Dawson. What we are offering you is not something that anyone ever usually finds out about in the course of a lifetime…or several. You are not dim enough to not at least partially comprehend the gravity of this fact. Regardless of your current intentions," and here he shot a suspicious glare at Hadrian, although not as viciously as before, "we cannot know what will happen to you in the future. Your opinions might change; you may be forced through torture or Veritaserum to reveal all you know; you may just feel angry, spiteful." He shrugged. "An Unbreakable Vow is the least we can ask of you, if you are willing to agree to join us; the Militia."

Hadrian felt the change in atmosphere almost immediately as the words came out of Malfoy's mouth. Finally, the real question was out. _Would he join the Militia?_

Despite the clear invitation, Hadrian was not particularly convinced to their arguments of why _he_ was being asked to join, as opposed to any other student. There were countless others which he'd have thought would be more obvious candidates, purebloods with more money, more connections. Even if he considered himself to be among the best, both in intelligence and cunning, he was relatively sure that neither Malfoy nor Snape were aware of the extent of his abilities. His academic records were mediocre at best, and he stayed away from any and all physical activities which would have revealed any of his other qualities, such as the Dueling Club and Quidditch.

He considered that they were also asking other students to join, and maybe he wasn't even their first choice. However, he quickly discarded the notion. Snape looked too uncomfortable, and Malfoy too tense, for this to be a usual occurrence.

"Is there any particular reason that I am being selected?"

Malfoy's laugh was not loud, but in the room's stubborn silence it seemed to expand and fill Hadrian's ears. He would have felt offended, except that the laugh was more bitter than derisive.

"That," the blonde said after a moment, "we cannot tell you; unless, of course, you agree to join."

Hadrian bit his lip; he didn't appreciate the way that both Malfoy and Snape seemed to be toying with him by throwing the bait and then pulling it back if he even so much as twitched in response, and he narrowed his eyes on the blonde. They didn't appear to be joking about their proposal, but the way they refused to tell him anything did not sit well with him at all.

"How do I know you will not hurt me after I accept the Vow, or even through it? The amount of trust you are expecting me to extend to you is ridiculous, if I may say so, considering how much I trust you at all. "

Snape considered his words, looking contrite and slightly worried. "I cannot say much beyond that this is a most unusual circumstance. I...swear to you, on my magic, that neither I nor Draco are planning on using the Vow to hurt you; not that we could, since you are always at liberty to refuse the contract. We will also not attack you after you accept it. As for the trust…I cannot say anything to that except," he paused, shooting a glance at Malfoy. "Except that it really is quite ridiculous."

Despite the mediocre reassurance, Hadrian had to hold back his amusement at the comment, allowing himself to observe both males further. They both looked exceedingly uncomfortable, Snape attempting to hide it even as the worry shone through, Malfoy not so much as his muscles ran noticeably tense down his back. He wondered if this was due to him, particularly, or because of the overall situation.

What had he to gain from this? What had he to lose? Snape had sworn on his magic they wouldn't hurt him –Hadrian was aware of the consequences of breaking such a vow, and he was sure Snape was as well; very unpleasant, to say the least – and he did indeed have the option of refusing the Vow at any point. He took a deep breath before letting it out slowly.

"Very well. I agree."

Malfoy nodded, looking pleased. Snape, also, seemed rather contended with Hadrian's decision. Neither of them emanated any sense of danger to Hadrian over the possible victory, but this did not mean anything to Hadrian anymore; he'd seen first-hand the kind of 360° turn that they could portray with their personalities, and so he could not trust his own opinions fully around them. He could only trust that they would not attempt to side-step their promises, and they would not use the Vow as a weapon.

Snape and Malfoy stood then, and Hadrian stood along with them. He let go of his bookbag, which had been shielding his wand; it fell on the couch. He held his wand near his leg, non-threateningly; regardless of their words, he did not feel secure enough to become defenseless around them. He felt both Snape and Malfoy tense slightly as they saw his wand, but he knew they would not deprive him of having it. It would be ridiculous of them to ask him to leave it, when it was clear that he held no particular confidence in them. Despite their reassurance, he still did not trust them very much. He knew that it was not likely they would attack him anyways, due to their presence in Hogwarts, but it never hurt to take an extra precaution. Besides there was no need to pretend innocence. All of them were aware of the situation.

Malfoy stretched out his hand, and Hadrian took it firmly after only a moment of hesitation. Snape walked over and stood in front of them. He took out his wand and placed it over their entwined hands. Malfoy cleared his throat lightly before beginning.

"Do you, Hadrian Dawson, agree to never reveal to anyone what we speak of in this room, for the next five hours, unless that person is already part of the Militia?" Malfoy's voice was strong as he dictated the first term.

_It certainly contains more people than I thought, it this is the first condition. I wonder how I will know who is and who is not part? Regardless, this condition is slightly troubling, but not at all unexpected. _He gripped his wand a little harder.

"I do."

A fiery tendril of magic erupted from Snape's wand, shining bright red as it twirled around their hands. Hadrian felt his magic respond, bonding to it, pulling part of it to it. He shivered unwillingly, knowing Malfoy would feel it, but feeling slightly reassured when he felt the blonde shiver a little as he, too, felt the magic pull at him.

"Do you, Hadrian Dawson, agree to never willingly harm anyone who is part of the Militia, unless for any reason they harm you first?"

Hadrian faltered minutely.

_I'm not sure I should be agreeing to this particular condition. I don't know what the Militia is, or who they are, or what they do. They did specify that I may do so in self-defense, which is rather thoughtful of them, _he thought a bit sarcastically. _I do still have one more condition which I can use to refuse the entire ordeal. At the very least, I should find out about them all. _

"I do."

A second tendril erupted from the wand, this time shining bright green.

_Avada Kedavra green,_ Hadrian's mind quipped. He shook the thought away.

Malfoy paused, and Hadrian had the sudden impression that, just as the first two conditions of the Vow were standardized procedure for the joining of the Militia, this third one was left open so that the person saying the conditions could tailor it to be specific to the one under the vow. He felt a trickle of nervousness run down his back as Malfoy's silence stretched.

"Do you, Hadrian Dawson…" Malfoy's voice ran out as the blonde hesitated minutely, before visibly gathering himself and continuing. "…agree to serve with the outmost faithfulness, from now until such a time as you are entirely unable to, the interest of the Militia, and as such, it's Lord?"

Hadrian noticeably hesitated this time.

_This is it. There is no known way to reverse an Unbreakable Vow. What I say at this point will decide what will happen._

_The outmost faithfulness? What defines such a thing? And who is the Lord? _He bit his lip. _They are members as well; they too must have gone through such a Vow as this, even though I cannot say so with certainty. Regardless, I must take into consideration that this last condition is slightly more binding than the other two, which are really superficial at best. The first condition is almost irrelevant; it will be concluded within 5 hours, or when I leave the room. The second condition insures the Militia will not be attacked by a member, something I was not planning to do unless one of them attack me, in which case I am allowed to attack back. _He felt a sense of realization spring in his mind. _The conditions are slack, at best. Even so, they do maintain a certain order, through the fact that they draw certain firm lines which cannot be broken. The third condition is much more flexible. What does it mean to be faithful? Usually any Vows hold onto the meanings which the one agreeing to the conditions has. Therefore, unless stated very clearly, they are extremely flexible. _

_Even so, is it worth what this may bring about? Even unwillingly breaking the Vow will bring about my death. It is highly dangerous._

He looked at his arm, at the two tendrils of magic bonding his and Malfoy's hands together. Bonding their and Snape's magic together.

_I can still back out._

A strange nudge in his mind made him look up.

He suddenly had the overwhelming feeling, as he looked up into Snape's anxious gaze, that if he declined now, he would never be asked again. In fact, he realized, he'd probably be Obliviated of all this. He'd never learn of this strange, evidently powerful organization that Malfoy and Snape talked about with such awe; the promise of knowledge, information and power which was extended to him would retract to vanish forever if he declined now.

And, with a slightly nauseous feeling, he realized that the thought of forgetting all of this made him more terrified than the thought of loosing some of his freedom.

And so he made his choice.

"I do."

The last tendril of magic, shining a bright blue, ran from Snape's wand, interlocking with the other two and completing the Vow. The three tendrils suddenly flashed white before sinking into Hadrian's skin and vanishing. Hadrian felt an answering pull from his own magic before it, too, receded.

The sudden lack of magical warmth caused something to start in his brain. He suddenly drew his hand from Malfoy's as if burned, taking a deep breath as he clutched the hand close to his chest.

_What have I done?_

_What have I _done.

Malfoy stood silently, watching Hadrian's actions. Snape took a step towards him, stretching a hand and placing it carefully on Hadrian's shoulder. Hadrian flinched lightly at the tentative contact.

"You did what was right, Hadrian."

Hadrian turned wild eyes on Snape.

"I don't know what I did. How can you say I did the right thing when I have no idea what I just did! I could have been signing my own death warranty and I did it just because I could!" He was shouting by now, but he didn't care. He knew that there were silencing and privacy spells around Snape's quarters, so he did know he would not be overheard.

The earlier assurance with which he'd convinced himself to agree to the Vow had weakened as soon as he'd felt the magic snap into place. His mind swirled, trying to organize his suddenly disarrayed thoughts. He wasn't even sure where the sudden panic was springing from, only that he was suddenly aware that he'd crossed a _Cannot Return _line. It was a fearful, gut reaction which he tried to quell as harshly as he could as soon as he realized it was mostly unsupported, but it took him a few moments to gain back a semblance of control.

"You did what was needed," Malfoy said, his low, harsh voice lending Hadrian an effective focus point as he regained control over his thoughts. He hadn't lost control in such a way in years, and it distressed and annoyed him that even after months of training in mastering his feelings, he still had such weakness. "Even if you do not know what the Militia is, you were drawn to it by our proposition and by your own reasons. No one who was not suited for the Militia has ever agreed to the Vow as you have. All who are part are presented with the same choice, if perhaps with different motivations – Severus and I included – and you made the necessary one. We did not just go up to you because you were the closest person available, but because we saw in you potential. You were selected, singled out. Do not underestimate us, Dawson."

Hadrian clenched his wand beside him, tightly leashing the anger suddenly lashing inside him when his curiosity was not immediately satisfied. "Then why? I completed the Vow, so now explain." His voice was not loud, but it was tinged with dangerous iciness.

Malfoy eyed him tensely, sitting down the sofa he'd been occupying previously without taking his eyes off Hadrian. Snape withdrew his hand from Hadrian's shoulder and went to sit on the couch. Hadrian walked over and, hesitating for only a moment, took his seat next to Malfoy. There was a strained silence for a while before Snape spoke.

"I was the first to notice. I would like to say that I would have figured it out if you had not…slipped as you did, when I called you into my class due to that unexpectedly clever answer in class. I am sure you remember."

Hadrian nodded, thinking back to that day with a twitch of uneasiness as his annoyance dimmed somewhat; as the initial shock faded, he was once again in control of his emotions and thoughts. The situation wasn't optimal, certainly, but he wasn't trapped with no escape either.

"The excuse you gave was pathetic at best," Snape said, his mouth twirling in the first smile Hadrian had seen clearly, although it was gone quickly. "I continued to watch you. I soon extended to Draco my own suspicions; he expressed certain…skepticism of my analysis, but agreed to watch you as well." Snape shrugged. "It was not easy, I will grant. You hide well. But after quite a few months of observation, we came to the shared conclusion that you…exceeded expectations. Once this became clear, we began to discuss the issue of whether or not to introduce you to the Militia."

Malfoy shifted beside Hadrian, drawing the brunette's attention. "I was the one to actually suggest it." He seemed rather uncomfortable at the admission, although the hostility towards him had dimmed somewhat. Hadrian wondered if this was because the blonde thought Hadrian would not believe him, or because he was uncomfortable expressing anything other than dislike to him. "Severus was contended to simply watch you develop, but I figured your numerous abilities, especially in the art of deception, would be quite beneficial to us; more so if you were to join as soon as possible. I proposed to bring you here today to see what would become of the Vow." The blonde nodded to him. "I am pleased to see I did not miscalculate."

Hadrian frowned lightly at the wording. What other abilities were they aware of? "How long have you been watching me for?"

"I've been watching you for about 2 years and a half. Draco, 2 years," Snape said, nonchalantly. Hadrian's eyes widened.

He felt vaguely sick that they'd been able to watch him so closely without his being aware of it. Sure, he'd caught Snape's gaze sometimes, and Malfoy's at points, but he'd dismissed them easily and without even truly taking what it meant into consideration. It made him rather nauseous and decidedly apprehensive over what else he could have missed.

Snape seemed to sense his uneasiness.

"Do not stress, Hadrian. No one else, as far as we can tell, is aware of your mask." He made a small gesture to indicate that they would talk about it later at greater length. "We are specialized in the art of observing. That is one of our main roles in the Militia. Even then, if took us 1 year and a half to really see past your mask, and then another half a year to properly plan out our deception. You may be sure that no one else in this school, be it teacher or student, is either aware of your capabilities or is at a level to match them."

_Except for you two, clearly. And on what authority can they claim that no one else is aware? There are several other wizards who are certainly powerful enough to get away with it, with none of them any the wiser. _"What about Dumbledore?"

The change was immediate. Snape's bemused expression suddenly became closed off, and Malfoy scowled fiercely. Hadrian took a step back, suddenly wary.

"That old fool knows much less than he would like to pretend he does," Malfoy snapped. "He's been trying to catch, out of the school population, who it is that the Militia are. He had thus far been unsuccessful. He has not caught out your own acting, either." Malfoy's eyes were unreadable and dark. "You would know if he had."

"Dumbledore is certainly a force to be reckoned with," Snape said, his eyes lightly reproachful as he looked at Malfoy. "But Draco is correct. If he were aware of us, or of you, you would most certainly know by now."

Hadrian was not entirely convinced.

"How are you so sure you'd know?"

Snape's eyes turned to him, cold as Hadrian had never seen them.

"You'd be dead."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_"You'd be dead."_

_

* * *

_

Hadrian felt his blood run cold at Snape's words.

"…dead?"

"Or disappeared. Tortured. Maimed." Malfoy shrugged, as if he were talking of no more than what he planning to do for the weekend. "Dumbledore detests the Militia with a passion that is matched only for the detestation that the Militia has of him. He stands for all that we, and you, go against."

Hadrian frowned. "What _do _I go against?" Of course he himself was aware, but he wanted to know what Malfoy and Snape were actually referring to.

Malfoy leaned against the back of the sofa. "The dissolution of Dark Magic. The inclusion without study of those born from Muggles only. The discrimination of those with Dark Magic in their blood." He turned to Hadrian, who was looking at him with wide, shocked eyes. "We've been watching you, Hadrian, for a while. We did not just go pick up some person who struck our fancy. I cannot reiterate this enough, as it does not appear to have sunken in just yet, but you would not be here if you did not already fit the qualities which are needed for the Militia."

_They _have_ been watching me, even to learn what I stand for politically and ideologically. _Hadrian shifted. _The dissolution of black Magic, better known as mixing both light and dark families' blood, would be disastrous for our community. Light magic is, unfortunately, dominant, so a child born from both light and dark parentage is much more likely to be light. This would not be such a problem if the child were not also to have magic which is inferior to that of both his parents. Obscure studies made by Dark Wizards have shown that, within three generations, an alarming number of Squibs would appear, and that would mean the end of what could have once been a great line._

_The inclusion of Muggleborns, as Malfoy so delicately has said it, would have similar consequences to that of the interbreeding. The magical inclination of Muggleborns, due to their parents, is much harder to figure out. It is certainly not impossible, and most certainly all Muggle have a natural inclination toward one side or the other, but until one is _sure_, then producing offspring with a Muggleborn might have the same, even worse consequences than with the interbreeding. Some scholars have suggested that, due to the Muggleborn's strange blood, eventually the magic in the family would disappear completely, rendering them all no better than Muggles. _Hadrian shivered. _And that is unacceptable. _

_And evidently, I cannot stand for the discrimination of those with Dark Magic is them. Not just because I have Dark Magic in _me_, but because it is stupid to discriminate without reason, and more than anything I hate stupid things._

_Although reckless is sometimes acceptable, apparently._

Hadrian looked at Snape. "I find it hard to believe that recklessness is a quality which is admired in the Militia."

Snape nodded, aware of what Hadrian was talking about. "It isn't, really." He paused, and Hadrian felt the back of his neck prickle. "But, it is needed. Those who are accepted into the Militia are people who, at times, cannot be made aware of the entirety of the situation and yet still have to carry out missions which, to them, might seem suicidal or worthless. The Militia has certain qualities as what the name implies; military discipline, military objectives, military ranks. If someone from a higher rank tell you to jump, you do not ask how high, you do not as where; you jump. Immediately."

Hadrian shook his head. "I'm surprised that anyone would be able to give in to such a request. No reasons given for a suicide mission? That seems petulant at best. One would have to be either an idiot or plain suicidal and I find it hard to believe that of you, or of me." He looked to Malfoy, whose expression was inscrutable. "I find it odd that the Militia could work in such a way; and if it does, then I find it…unreasonable that it is as powerful as you claim. Could you really go on what you believed to be a suicide mission without knowing anything about it?"

"I already have," Malfoy calmly replied. "Various times. You greatly underestimate how we function."

Hadrian frowned, vaguely frustrated. "Then explain, please."

Snape sighed, calling Hadrian's attention to him. "'Recklessness', as you call it, is very different from simply being a beaten, spineless soldier. The people who are part of us as not cowards, or even too prone to giving in to another person's will. However, oftentimes we cannot have the luxury of explaining the situation to someone. Granted, most of our members are extremely smart, and so that always gives a clear advantage. If they can figure out the entire situation themselves, so much the better.

I have said earlier that this situation, with you, is extremely unusual. _You _are extremely unusual, and so we've had to almost…improvise, which is why we were so stressed, as I'm sure you noticed. The Militia depends on individual strengths just as much as it depends on trust. Rather than recklessness, the members must trust each other enough to dive into a situation with only the promise of their own strength and that of his comrades." He gestured to Malfoy, who continued the explanation.

"As I have been implying, every single person asked to join –for you cannot join without invitation— is watched carefully for an undetermined period by those who are already in the Militia. There is no time limit, and the observation may go on for a decade, if the person is elusive enough. I do believe the record is 37 years." He glanced at Snape, who raised an eyebrow in response. "There are certain general qualities which we look for in a person, apart from smaller, more specific attributes. Evidently, the qualities are hidden, which makes it that much harder to detect them, but that is why we are given as much time as needed."

"Why would they be hidden?"

"Because otherwise they'd already be famous on their own right; common notoriety is a quality which is frowned upon by the Militia, among others." Malfoy leaned forward slightly. "The first quality we look for is the 'mask'."

Hadrian gazed at him. Malfoy smirked very slightly.

"As you have no doubt figured out, both Severus and I are different, personality-wise, than what we appear to the usual public. Severus is actually very protective of younger people who he likes and rather surprisingly affectionate. He is quite a bit softer that he appears to his students, and also less overly devoted to his potions."

"I, on the other hand, am much crueler than I look." He grinned thinly, his eyes shining with malice. "I give off the impression of a pampered rich-boy, who is smart academically but nothing else. I'm a prejudiced bigot who would never deign myself worthy of being near the likes of people like _you_…am I right?"

Hadrian flinched at being caught out so effortlessly, but Malfoy shook his head. "It isn't, you know, easy. I was actually offered to join twice, something which I've been told has only happened once before; the first time I refused outright, mainly because the Militia sent my own father as the messenger." He frowned. "They'd misread my own intensity for my father as admiration for him, when in fact it spun farther into hate. That was a light mistake, but I was willing to forgo it, because the observation of me had been cut short due to my own father's…recklessness." He smirked. "He insisted that I be tried early, and to do it personally, probably blinded by some sense that being my father would—"

"Draco talks of his father very lowly, but he is unfortunately biased." Severus interjected, catching Malfoy off course as the blonde turned shocked and slightly angry towards him. "Lucius is a very valuable member of the Militia, for reasons best told by him alone. The reason he insisted that Draco be tested _early_ was because he wanted another bond to his son, who he knew was drawing farther and farther away from him, when he was not sure how to approach him without Draco being part of the Militia. Draco was already a chosen candidate, but the timing was not right. Even so, Lucius was only doing what he thought best, both for his son and for him. I must comment that he was highly aware of the very real possibility that Draco would reject him; he was not blinded in any way, merely hopeful."

Hadrian looked to the blonde, whose expression had turned dark. He tried to turn his mind around what he was being told, feeling extremely out of place in a situation which, even if these had been his friends, he would probably have felt slightly uncomfortable. As it was, he felt like he was inside someone else's dream with the person unaware of him.

This was Snape and Malfoy. He hadn't ever talked to them at a friendly level, much less in such an intimate manner. Before today, he'd considered Snape to be a ruthless teacher, a genius at potions, even petty at times; but overall a general hermit to his profession. Malfoy, on the other hand, he had considered as all others clearly did; the Prince of Slytherin, the Malfoy heir; the little prick who thought he was better than everyone else simple because he had money and blood.

"Why are you telling me this?" Hadrian said suddenly, breaking the silence and turning both eyes to him. "This is Malfoy's history which is undoubtedly personal, extended to me, veritably a stranger."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "It's not like you can go around telling anyone about it. The Vow also prevents you from hurting Draco by using any of this information against him. I was not spouting words earlier, when I mentioned that the Militia's running depends on trust. It is a heavy weight, and it starts by knowing the people who you are working with. Soon, you will meet the rest of the Militia personally so that you may get to know them, including Lucius." Malfoy's lips tightened at his father's name. "I am not saying you absolutely must, but it would be highly beneficial to all of us if you would also work on extending your own trust; perhaps through your history, or your aims. We are also under the same Vow as you are – excepting the last condition, which varies according to each person – so we cannot tell anyone outside the Militia what we have learned today.

We all eventually come to learn everything about each other; you will see that it is inevitable. You may, of course, hide what you wish, but do know that no one in the Militia can intentionally use it against you. The Vow is clear on that point."

Hadrian hissed silently.

"Who is part of the Militia?"

Snape frowned slightly.

"Well, the present numbers are quite large, for us. We have members in Russia, France and several other countries. Naming them all would be time consuming and nothing you would not benefit from learning in the course of time. However, I will tell you the names of those who are currently here in Britain, and which you will most likely meet soon." Snape's eyes swept to the fireplace. "They are Lucius Malfoy, Barty Crouch Jr., Rabastan Lestrange and Rodolphus Lestrange."

Hadrian's eyes widened.

"They were all part of the Dark Side in the War."

Snape nodded. "They all supported the Dark Lord Voldemort, yes. So, in fact, did I." He sent Hadrian a searching look. "Would you not have done the same, if pressed to a choice?"

Hadrian frowned. It was a rather personal question, and one that he was not certain he should answer while inside the walls of Hogwarts, if nothing else due to Dumbledore's presence. He shot a look at Malfoy, whose posture had not changed as he glared at nothing.

"Maybe." It was as far as he was willing to go at present. Snape nodded, accepting the response.

"In any case, they are all fighting for the same cause you are, and have been for a long time. Now that you are officially a member, you will aid us actively as well."

Hadrian's lips tightened at the words; he'd agreed to join and as such had agreed to the conditions of joining. He didn't appreciate that he was suddenly thrust up into activity, but he accepted that he wasn't going to refuse. It just bothered him slightly that it was being ordered of him so absolutely, as if he had no choice whatsoever in the matter.

He raised a hand to rub at his eyes, which stung slightly. Snape stood at the motion, looking startled. Malfoy's face shot to look at him.

"What's wrong Severus?"

"Nothing. I just hadn't realized how late it was." He turned to Hadrian. "You are tired. It is near curfew, and I apologize for having kept you here for so long." He paused. "I am thankful of your agreement. I had not thought it time, but apparently Draco knows you better than I do."

Hadrian turned sharply to the blonde, who stood up and moved to the door. "Maybe so." He paused before looking back. "Dawson, walk with me until the Slytherin rooms?"

If the blond had ordered it, Hadrian would have had to bite back an acerbic comment. As it was, the slight infliction caused him to gesture affirmatively before standing as well, slinging his book-bag over his shoulder. Then, he turned to Snape, who stood silently watching him.

"Professor…it has been a most interesting evening. I look forward to learning from you." It was a promise. Snape nodded.

"So you will, Hadrian. I look forward to teaching you."

Malfoy shifted impatiently, and Hadrian walked over to the youth. Malfoy opened the door, motioning for Hadrian to pass, who did so quickly. As soon as he went through the door frame, a shiver passed through him.

_It's the magic. The five hours are not up yet, but I am out of the room. The Vow's first term has been completed._

Then, just as quickly,

_There must be other ways to bend the terms to my benefit._

He suddenly realized that this kind of thought might be considered treason. Hadrian felt a tug from his magic, issuing a warning at him, prodding him not to think ill of the Militia in any way.

_But there is no reason I should be fearful of thinking. It is only the actual _harming_ which is dangerous. Plotting is fine, as is performing actions while fully believing they are for the benefit of the Militia._

_What if one member is harmed, to benefit all the rest? _

Hadrian began up the steps, feeling Malfoy following him silently; the door to Snape's quarters closed behind them. As the darkness around him receded, he felt his thoughts become lighter.

_The words are only as binding as I let them be. _

Then;

_I must not become too cocky. I must never believe that these people are stupid, regardless of the shortcomings that they undoubtedly also have._ His eyes shifted to Malfoy, whose expression was still rather closed-off. _Not one of us is perfect, but underestimating them will only lead to my destruction, physically or otherwise. There must be certain limitations to how much I can shift the Vow, despite the obvious flexibility. The only clear limit is my own creativity and my intelligence, both which I am willing to stretch as far as possible. _

The passage to the larger hallways was by now visible, and they exited the stairs and continued down the hall, all the while silence prevailing between them.

_Malfoy is in no way stupid, either. He knew what he was doing back there; perhaps he is not a master at it, but he might know something I don't. I cannot risk upsetting the Vow just to test it; he is aware of this, as are the others. The main power of the Vow in this particular case is not the specific conditions, but the leniency with which they may or may not be applied. I fear to push it too far, and so I will not push much. _He grinned bitterly. _Clever. Originally I thought it was just brutal, but it is clearly based on mentally leashing the member within their own parameters. They themselves become the leash. _

A scuffle beside him drew him from his thoughts, and he realized they'd arrived at the Slytherin dorms. Malfoy turned to him, a light frown in his face.

"Dawson, I know you don't really understand what joining implies, and whether it was the right choice. I would be surprised that you're not freaking out, except that I know you better than that. I _was_ the one who suggested this date, being nearly sure you were ready." He paused. "I wasn't…sure you'd accept. I know that information tempts you more than anything; I counted on it. The main factor was, though, the option of being _part _of something; a group, a stereotype, anything concrete calls to you. I knew that that would draw you to accept this, when perhaps nothing else would.

I know it might not mean anything to you but…well, I believe you will fit in perfectly." He seemed to fight with himself for a moment; then, he lightly bent his head, in the same gesture which Hadrian had seen him make to Snape when he'd first seen them together in the room, that strangely submissive nod which so resonated within him. "Welcome to the Militia, Hadrian Dawson."

Hadrian returned the gesture, wanting to understand what it meant to them and what it meant to him, and feeling within him a spark of something strange and rare which he'd only felt very few times before; he smiled softly, knowing Malfoy could not see it.

When they once again straightened, their masks were back in place, and Hadrian dropped his shoulders and his gaze and shuffled away from Malfoy, who sneered at him in disdain.

"Well then, go to your common room. I cannot be seen near filth like you." The tone was nasty and spiteful, and Hadrian flinched as he quickly fled from the blonde's presence just as a small group of Slytherin walked past him, also going to their own common room. They spotted him and laughed derisively, going over to Malfoy and quickly surrounding the boy, their voices quickly drifting away as Hadrian sped to his own common room. Within a few minutes, he stood in front of the Ravenclaw room, and murmured to the password, "Signia", to the suit of amour which guarded the entrance. He slipped inside, clutching his bag like a lifeline, and ran up the stairs which led to his room. No one noticed, as always, the small raven which had rushed in so hurriedly, just as Hadrian wanted. No one had noticed he'd been missing for five hours, and no one would miss him now, as he flung himself on his bed and shut the curtains, whispering a locking and silencing charm.

His breath was shallow, fast; he sat there until the other boys came up to the room; sat there until they went to their beds and fell asleep; sat there until the moon was high in the night sky and the wind had turned cold and smooth.

_"Welcome to the Militia, Hadrian Dawson."_

_"Welcome, Hadrian."_

_"Welcome."_

It was well after midnight when he finally felt his eyes close of their own will, and he fell back onto his covers, unconscious before his head hit the pillows.

_"Welcome."_


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"_Welcome."_

_

* * *

_Hadrian wasn't entirely sure what he'd expected after the entire thing had been through, but he had to admit that being ignored wasn't among his anticipated scenarios.

To be fair, he wasn't exactly being ignored; rather, his life had gone back to normal, exactly like it had been before the fateful encounter. It wasn't like he himself had even attempted to initiate contact with either Malfoy or Snape; he'd decided to send a note to Snape as a light reminder of the promised lessons once it'd become clear that the Professor would not extend the letter first, but the bitter disgust he still felt towards himself and his fruitless research on the Militia kept him putting it off.

The Militia was not a subject which was written about lightly, and he'd known from the start that it was not likely to be at the library of Hogwarts; apart from the clearly secluded nature and the inherent secrecy of the Militia, Hadrian suspected this had something to do with the alleged hatred which Dumbledore held for the Militia. This was a specific factor he was also interested in, and was planning on asking Snape about. Dumbledore was clearly an important figure in the Militia, judging by Snape's and Malfoy's reaction to the name.

He'd eventually gone to the Restricted Section to search for any passages, as it was clear that there was no way that whole books would be written about the subject. This was enabled by Madame Pince; she was one of the few teachers who'd actually noticed Hadrian, due to the fact that he'd spent an inordinate amount of time in the library and a small encounter they'd had. She did not bother him because he did not bother her, and she seemed to hold for him a strange kind of respect.

On his first year, when he'd first been working out the kinks of creating the mask, he'd spent almost all of his time in the library, pouring over books of all shapes and sizes. Of course, a lot of them were helpful, but the actual ones that he needed to make any important advances to his manner and appearance were not in his grasp. He'd quickly discovered the Restricted Section in the library and his limited access to it.

For a while, he'd attempted to discreetly sneak in, but it soon became clear that this would be impossible. Madame Pince had clearly installed several wards which both alerted her to any unauthorized access and did not physically permit the student to enter the Section. Eventually, he'd approached the woman.

His first impression of her was that Madame Pince was frightfully bony; her eyes were sharp and clear, her hands long and spidery. She'd looked down at him from behind her desk, her expression pinched and lightly surprised at the First Year who would approach her so suddenly.

"Please, Madame. Is there any way for me to gain access into the Restricted Sections without needing special permission from a particular teacher?"

Her eyes narrowed on him.

"There's a reason why that is the Restricted Section, young man. The books you can find there are commonly dangerous and contain information which is not suitable for those of your age and instruction; especially not without a teacher's approval."

Her voice was sharp and her eyes conveyed that, yes, she'd noticed his few foiled attempts. He did not lower his eyes from hers nor allowed any expression of shame to show. He took in a light breath.

"Madame, I would like to gain access so that I may obtain valuable information on subjects which are not in the Hogwarts curriculum, and yet I am extremely interested in. Why keep such a Section if not for the decidedly limited availability to certain students?"

She pursed her lips.

"We do also have Teachers in this esteemed location, young man."

"Maybe so, but the cost of the maintenance of this Section would be inordinate if it was not also destined for student's use."

She seemed to hesitate.

Hadrian pressed on, picking up on the weakening of her resistance.

"I am largely interested in certain subjects which Hogwarts deems perhaps…unsuitable for its students. I do not know why, since they are fascinating in and of themselves. Why is it that subjects such as 'The Innovation of Curses' restricted? As long as I don't use them to hurt others, there is unimaginable potential in that subject matter. And regardless of what the books themselves are about, it all depends on my own intentions what they are used for, does it not?"

He paused for a moment, then continued when it became clear she was listening.

"I promise you that I have no intention to harm any of the books, and that I will ask for your permission before entering the Section. I do not intend to take any of the books out, merely to read them within the Library."

Madame Pince leaned forward slightly.

"What makes you think that I would allow your entrance? Furthermore, even if all you say is true, why should I?"

Hadrian met her gaze evenly.

"Because I know you value these books as much as I do, and dislike the fact that they are being kept in the dark, ignored and unused. Because I value knowledge and knowing more than I value anything else." His voice became colder. "Because if you do not allow it, then I will find some other way to enter."

Her eyes narrowed.

"Are you threatening me, young man?" There was an undercurrent of warning in her voice. Hadrian did not allow himself to react. Instead, he shielded his eyes with thinly veiled innocence.

"In no way, Madame. I am simply stating facts."

Her eyes widened momentarily. Then, Hadrian was startled to see a small smile curl into her lips. The expression looked unnatural on her, and it quickly disappeared, leaving behind only a vestige of cold interest in her gaze.

"Very well. I will permit your access to the Restricted Section. I will not question why you are so interested; in return I do hope you make your time useful."

Hadrian regarded her carefully, not trusting the fact that she'd given in so easily without demanding even information. He hadn't thought to actually gain access from her, but to find out a weakness in the wards which he could expliot to make way himself. As it was, he didn't know whether to feel grateful or be highly suspiscious. Even if she acquitted to what he'd asked, he'd expected her to name numerous conditions, including that he always tell her specifically what books he wanted to read, and setting limited times for his access. He looked suspiciously at her.

The woman's eyes were focused sharply on him, as if reading his mind. He tensed at the idea, but did not seriously consider the idea that she might be an actual Legilimens. He wanted to ask why she was allowing this; he was certain that she would ask for something in return, but what, he could not fathom.

"I am extremely grateful. Is there any way to repay your kindness?" he made it clear from his expression that it was not an innocent question.

"My kindness?" She seemed amused at his phrasing, perhaps at the words, perhaps at what he where insinuating. "Well, I would like you to tell me your name."

Hadrian could not, for the life of him, understand why she would ask this. It was obvious that, even if she did in fact not know his name, she could easily find it out. He wondered briefly if there were any spells which needed the target saying their own name out loud, but came up empty. This did not mean much, of course. He searched Madame Pince's eyes, trying to find any malice or speculation which might betray any ill will towards him. Finding none, merely that same detached interest from before, he answered truthfully.

"Hadrian Dawson."

He relaxed as nothing happened once the name was spoken. She nodded. "Hadrian Dawson." She took out her wand from her pocket, and Hadrian stiffened; but she merely waved it while muttering a spell under her breath and aiming towards the Restricted Section. Hadrian felt a light tickle on his skin; then it was gone, and she put her wand back in her pocket.

He could feel a light sheen of magic remaining from the spell, and took a moment to analyze it. He soon realized it was actually a part of Hogwarts' magic; it had the same dense, old-time feel which the castle's magic held. He wasn't particularly sensitive to magic, but Hogwarts was so saturated with it, that he'd actually become able to identify it, as now. He guessed that it was designed to restrict his access to prohibited locations, but that teachers could manipulate it, to some extent.

"I do hope that you make wise use of the books which I am giving you access to. Some of them are quite interesting." Her eyes hinted that there was more to it than what she was revealing. "The wards will now allow your passage. Feel free to look around at your leisure." She suddenly narrowed her eyes on him. "I am extending my trust to you, Mr. Dawson. Do not disappoint me."

He nodded, feeling a cold trickle run up his spine. "I will not, Madame Pince." _Not forget, not disappoint. _"Once again, you have my gratitude."

She nodded, dismissing him; he turned and walked over to the no-longer-Restricted Section. He paused at the edge of the wards, turning her words over in his head for a moment before entering the Section. He'd think on it later

This had happened a little over 2 years ago, and since then Hadrian had held Madame Pince in a special regard. She never questioned his motives and rarely did she restrict his access. As such, he respected the her unspoken boundaries and made as much use of the Restricted section as his schedule allowed.

He browsed along the shelves now, looking with interest at several covers which he hadn't yet read, and some which he had looked through at some point. He was searching for anything that might talk to him about the organization known as the Militia. He wasn't sure for how long the Militia had been active, but from the way that Snape talked about it, he guessed it might be in its 2nd, maybe 3rd century. It had to be, to have the variety of representatives in various countries, as well as being able to interest the main dark purebloods of English Society.

Eventually, he took out two; 'European Pureblood Society and its History', and 'Modern Dark History; England'. He wasn't entirely sure why the first book was in the Restricted Section; even the second one, with its apparent Dark inclination, didn't seem like the kind of book to be Restricted. Even so, he considered that they might have some kind of 'unsuitable material' she wasn't too obvious. Such as information on the Militia.

He didn't really hold much hope for either, but he had only 2 more hours before he was expected in classes and he'd already spent more time on this research than he had on almost anything else, while remaining with nothing to show for it.

He sat down at his table in the corner of the Library, placing his bookbag and 'Modern History' beside him, opened 'Pureblood Society'.

The book contained 18 sections; the first one instructed the reader on pureblood mannerisms, specifically English ones. He knew all about those, had studied them extensively in his second year, when he'd made up his mind to be able to meld into any group he wished to. It had a few different chapters on the different expectations each country held, something which Hadrian knew he'd eventually have to look into further, but as it was he skipped over the section. He didn't know when he'd be expected to meet with the rest of the Militia, and he wasn't looking forward to doing so without having any idea of what he'd be facing. It had already been 5 days since the Vow's completion, and Hadrian was surprised that he hadn't been contacted as yet. He was expecting Snape to send him a note at any moment.

The second section went into the highest rendered Pureblood families in Europe. Hadrian noted with amusement that the Malfoy family was listed in the top five, along with the Black, the Jacque, the Vasiliev and the Danvers. He looked over the names, memorizing them carefully, and then continued on.

The second section revealed the book's Restricted status, as it quickly went on to describe in detail several Blood Rituals and a few almost certainly near-illegal Dark curses which pertained individually to each family; Hadrian looked them over with interest, but bypassed them in favor of his task. He could come back to them at a later time.

An hour and most of his patience later, he placed the book aside, convinced that it contained nothing even related to the Militia. He took the other book, 'Modern History', and, feeling slightly annoyed at his lack of advancement in his self-imposed task, opened it halfway randomly.

As the pages settled, Hadrian skimmed over the lines in the book quickly, taking in the words without actually seeing them but still aware of their meaning.

His eyes widened as he focused on a particular fragment in the page, his breath becoming shallow and fast as he felt his excitement grow and the previous frustration disappear immediately.

He felt a vague flash of incredulity that he'd found the information so quickly and unexpectedly after hours of pain-staking research, but pushed it aside.

_Among the most obscure __of societies which are referent to Dark Wizards is the organization known as _the Militia_. _

_It is a hidden organization, which forms around ideological cults. Despite its largely unknown functions and existence, it has throughout its history shown itself to be an undoubtedly powerful coalition. Often it has, due to its mysterious nature, been disrepute as mere myth. _

_There is very little known about the Militia__, and even less with any certainty. The fact that it is so obscure has led to little intrusion or research into the Militia, beyond the scope of general formation and situation. _

_Below are the few certainties of the Militia, grouped into 3 factions._

_There are no female members in the Militia; creatures, such as vampires and werewolves, are rare but have been known to become part through invitation. _

_The actual reasons for the gender discrimination are__ unknown, but speculations have been made about the level of violence or old-fashioned customs. It was commonly believed that witches held less power than wizards, therefore much weaker candidates on all levels._

It made sense, Hadrian knew. The Militia was probably formed at a point in time when witches were viewed as fragile and weak. Not that there were not still some wizards who held this view, but to actually actively discriminate against females was not a value held in high regard, if behind the scenes it was still a driving force. One had to take into account the fact that creatures were allowed to join, but Hadrian supposed that their evidently superior fighting qualities superimposed any prejudice held against them.

However, something nagged at him; even if it had been formed at such a time to avidly avoid females, it was improbable that it would not have evolved from then; and while Hadrian would not expect females to be in the majority of the members, he would at least expect some to be part.

Hadrian had never held many people in high regard, but he held a special dislike for females. Not each individual woman, per se, but the idea of femininity as a general concept rubbed him the wrong way. He knew that this was a value more inclined towards society's masculine description of what constituted as 'female', but it didn't stop him from avoiding female company as much as he could, with a few exceptions.

Hadrian had known he'd preferred males since he was 12. It hadn't been too much of a shock; not because he'd expected it, but because it hadn't seemed like something which was so much out of the ordinary back then. He'd never before had reason to question his sexuality, or even to delve into what sexual inclination even meant. He was infinitely more prone towards academic endeavors than those of the social order, and so until he'd found himself looking over repeatedly towards Cedric Diggory, a Hufflepuff 3 years older than himself, he'd never even thought about romance or attraction. As it was, he'd analyzed his unusual reaction, thought back to all the allegedly beautiful females which he'd never found attractive, and reached the logical conclusion that he was gay.

He'd never been one to stay in denial, at least as far as he could help it. He recognized that this in itself was a factor of denial, but he'd made it a habit to be cold and rational when it came to troubling or confusing circumstances. And so, he'd stored away the knowledge of his preference and got on with life. He wasn't interested in pursuing any relationships any time soon, and most certainly hadn't been back then, and so he saw no reason why it was a subject that should be thought about with any regularity, if at all.

As it was, he felt rather pleased to know that he wouldn't meet with any women in the Militia. However, he knew, that in no way meant that he wouldn't still have to interact with any woman somehow connected to an actual member, be it as a wife, daughter or friend.

_A__n Unbreakable Vow must be conducted with the presence of at least two members of the Militia, one as the Bonder and one stating the conditions. _

_Although the actual terms remain unknown, the 3 conditions are almost certainly linked to Secrecy, Loyalty and Protection. It is thought that the members participating in the bonding are often emotionally connected to the one being test, but this is in no way certain. _

Hadrian thought back to the conditions which Malfoy had extended to him, suppressing a wince as the memory of the exchange reminded him of a carelessness which he knew he possessed, and yet was disgusted by. It was a loss of control which he hadn't expected of himself at that point in time, even drawn in by the promise of knowledge and of…_belonging_, as Malfoy had so gregariously expressed it. It had ended well, all things considered, but it was a blind fool who would repeat the risk he'd taken. Just knowing that he'd stepped so far off the proverbial cliff made him shudder, even if he was now sure that there was a high possibility of manipulation for the words themselves. He hadn't been consciously aware of that fact when he'd made the Vow, and that was what made him so wary of his own self-control. Eventually, he feared he'd dig a hole so deep that all his intellect wouldn't be able to fill it up again.

He brought his mind back to the book, feeling slightly dismayed as he realized that there was less than a paragraph left of explanation. Even so, the few facts he'd uncovered were valuable, and he'd made the most of them.

All the Vow's conditions did in fact all link in their own way to the three factors; Hadrian immediately realized that it was to be expected, so that the deeper reason for the Vow remained hidden. The Vow also served a different purpose, which Snape had revealed was to test the potential member's probability as a useful addition to the Militia. The fact that Hadrian had in fact passed the test could not ease the burn and nearly overwhelming self-disgust from the loss of control; he wondered if this stinging caution was also a side-purpose for the Vow. Now that he'd felt the fear of feeling powerless for even a fleeting instant, he was reluctant to ever try such a thing again. Once bitten, twice shy; as the Muggle saying went.

_The Militia has existed for 300 hundred years. It has been disbanded and recreated a total of 3 times; including the initial formation, it is divided into 4 separate episodes._

_The Militia always forms around a Lord. This Wizard is considered the leader of the Militia at the current moment, and it is usually at the death of a Lord that the Militia is disbanded._

_The Lord is at the center of the Militia's ideological formation, which is regarded as its main existence purpose. However, this is no way means that the Militia is a peaceful organization; it has been __formed around times of conflict such as wars, and the few known members, whose identities cannot be disclosed due to security measures, have consistently been a main part of the front lines, if not of the public eyes._

Hadrian closed the book lightly, feeling his head spin as he tried to bring his mind around the new information which he'd discovered. Some of the facts which the book contained he'd already known, but most others deserved investigation.

The amount of information was decidedly limited, but this was not surprising in the least; Hadrian felt a vague respect for the members at being able to keep such a tight leash of their secrecy.

He also felt a large amount of curiosity. The book said that the Militia basically formed around a Lord, and without it was bound to disappear. Malfoy had also, during his Vow, mentioned a Lord. He was quite certain it was the same one the book was referring to, although it brought him no closer to actual identification.

He felt his wand, which he kept in the inner pocket of his robes, emit a soft pulse of magic; it was a timing spell he'd placed on it to warn him when lunch ended. This was the only time when he found it truly necessary, as otherwise he only had five minutes to get from each class and so wouldn't stop for anything else, but during lunch he often found himself drifting away from the Main Hall and someplace where it wasn't as clear when classes were supposed to start up again.

He quickly replaced both books in the Restricted shelves, taking close note of their slightly displaced locations; he vowed to one day organize the books in a way that made it _simpler _to find one in particular. He then picked up his book bag and quickly walked out the library, nodding towards Madame Pince, who sent him a nod in return. Despite his earlier excitement towards finding something, he couldn't help but still feel a pit of dread in his stomach.

He'd have to go into the meeting almost completely blindfolded anyways.

* * *

"How was your trip, Lord?" Snape said, stepping aside to allow the other man to pass into the room. The Potions Master's posture was tense, but his voice held a light tone of curiosity that only one who knew him well would pick up on; the other man most certainly did.

Snape bowed low as the other man entered the room; the man's long legs causing his rather short stature to seem much taller, if perhaps never quite towering. He did not look awkward or gawky, as others might have with his long, thin, slightly disproportionate body. As it was, he held himself with admirable grace, even when falling down into the sofa in the middle of the room and letting out a sign of annoyance.

"I suppose one could call it a success," the man said, his voice low and raspy; it was not exactly an unpleasant sound, but it took a while to get used to. Snape straightened, his expression calm and yet expressing some of his concern.

"You suppose?"

"They agreed to my proposal." He did not venture anymore. Snape was in no way dense; he could tell the subject was not one that the other man wanted to talk about, and so he backed off quickly.

"I am surprised you would have thought otherwise. Would you like a cup of coffee, Lord?"

The other man frowned slightly. "Would you not call me that in private? I am fond of the title," he said without a bit of sarcasm, which only made it all that more sarcastic, "but it is not what I am. Of course, I did not think otherwise, and I _would _indeed appreciate a cup."

Snape nodded, moving to a corner of the room and pouring some coffee from the pot he'd made earlier, anticipating the other man's arrival. He placed in 4 sugar cubes, stirring and passing the cup to the other man, who took it with relish.

"It's not healthy for you to drink that much sugar, Doctor."

The Doctor looked at Snape with vaguely annoyed brown eyes. "What constitutes as healthy for me is not what constitutes as healthy for any other Wizard, _Professor._" His tone bordered on amusement, but also a light warning, that Snape was not to force this particular issue, just like he was unwilling to talk about the Lady. Snape, once again, gave in.

"Evidently."

The Doctor drank slowly from his cup, and Snape watched with impatience as the silence stretched. It was clear the man was only torturing him, keeping him in suspense. Of course he knew.

"Is there something you'd like to tell me, Snape? You look a bit nervous," the Doctor said, his lips quirking slightly, his eyes telling Snape he knew exactly what Snape wanted to ask him.

"We have initiated Hadrian Dawson, Doctor. He agreed to the Vow without much convincing needed, and barely hesitated at the three conditions." Snape frowned. "It was rather startling, to be frank. If I didn't know him as well as I did, I would say he was rather…unintelligent to give in, in such a way."

"And as it is?"

Snape sighed lightly. "I do hope he's planning something that I am not aware of. Otherwise, I'd be preoccupied for his life."

The Doctor regarded Snape carefully before placing his cup on the table. "You are seriously doubting your reasons for bringing him into the Militia. Was his response not satisfactory?"

Snape considered. "I do not regret his invitation; he is certainly the best candidate in Hogwarts. As it is, however, I believe it was a bit too soon."

"Draco's was not too soon, and his was 4 years ago."

"You know as well as I do that age has nothing to do with," Snape said. "Draco's grown up very well, with Lucius, despite what feelings he himself holds towards his father. Hadrian has had no such figure to lead him onto the Militia's path, which is what makes him so much more interesting. Usually, the child learns from the father, or sometimes the brother. Such as with Rodolphus."

The Doctor nodded. "As long as you do not believe it a mistake, I am sure that time with us will mold him magnificently. Might I enquire as to why your timing appears to be…inappropriate?"

Snape frowned lightly. "To be frank, it came down to Draco. You've read the reports; I would have preferred to observe Hadrian for a longer while, but Draco considered that it would be most beneficial for us and him if he joined soon. I must say that it seemed premature; our largest fear was that he would refuse to take the Vow from us, and we would loose a powerful candidate."

The Doctor considered. "Yes, that would be quite a pity. From your reports, he seems to show quite a bit of potential."

"And then we'd have had to Obliviate him. I do not look forward to telling him that."

"We have time before he is of a level high enough to receive clearance of such information."

"Perhaps; regardless, I did want to ask something else, Doctor."

"Yes?"

"When will he be introduced?"

The Doctor took a small sip from his cup before placing it on the table in front of him. He then leaned back leisurely, crossing his legs. "We have an official meeting in a week. That would be optimal. Before then, I want you to give him a light briefing. No doubt he must have researched all he could about us and, regardless of his impulsiveness when initially complying, must by now be feeling certain regret over his choice to join. I trust you have not contacted him yet?"

"No, Doctor."

"Very well. Do so as soon as possible. As always, you are allowed your own schedule when conducting his instruction. I will have a mission for him within 3 months. Make sure he is ready."

"Of course, Doctor."

The Doctor nodded to Snape. "You may go back now. I will call you if you are needed for anything else."

"Yes, Doctor."

Snape then walked over to the fireplace, picking up a decent amount of Floo-Powder from a vial to the side; he threw it in, stepping into the flames and saying clearly, "Professor Snape's Rooms, Hogwarts" before disappearing in a muffled roar.

The Doctor watched the usual spectacle with unfocused eyes, the ease with which he'd conversed with the Potions Master gone without a trace.

His mind was narrowed on the meeting that was to come and on his 'trip' abroad. It had finished well, all things considered; most of the people he'd been forced to converse with were tolerable, if perhaps not his first choice in company, and he'd managed to bring about his proposal within the Pureblood circles. If it hadn't been for the Lady's irritating stubbornness, he would have been quite pleased with the entire ordeal.

Then, he forced himself to relax, picking up his cup and drinking the last bit of coffee before it went cold. It wouldn't matter, soon.

War had that funny little tendency to force things into perspective.


	5. Chapter 5

**AN:** First of all I would like to say thank you so very much for all the reviews. They are what keep my muse alive; thank you thank you so much!

I know that a lot of you are extremely annoyed at how the Vow went off, and as I re-read the story I realized that Hadrian's personality was not what I wanted it to be at all. It would clash horribly later, so now all of the earlier chapters have been edited. The main facts are still the same, but Hadrian's personality is quite different; I like him better now. ˆwˆ

Apart from that, some reviewers have been asking about Hadrian's past. This chapter focuses on that a little bit, so not much in the way of actual action will happen, but I promise in the next chapter the plot will advance! BTW, I will be introducing two OCs. One of them is central to the plot, the other not so much; there will not be many other OCs, though, so no worries.

Also, I have no beta, so do point out any mistakes in the chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

_War had that funny little tendency to force things into perspective._

_

* * *

_

Hadrian wiped a bead of sweat which ran down his temple, feeling how his hands trembled from exhaustion and exhilaration. A sense of euphoria threatened to overwhelm him as he felt the residue magic stain his fingertips, and he clenched his wand harder so as to not loose notion of himself in his success.

The spell had worked. After 5 long months of planning, pouring over old tomes and writing dozens of feet of parchment, he'd finally succeeded in actually creating a spell and, now, casting it. The transfigured lion he'd been training with lay dead a few feet away, thick red blood gushing out from a side-wound; half of its rib cage appeared to have exploded, the bones sticking out at odd angles and his heart an unrecognizable lump of flesh in the carcass' mid-section. Hadrian felt a cold satisfaction at the gory sight, even if he couldn't help a mild disgust; he wasn't exactly used to this sort of thing, but it no longer bothered him.

_Cor Inscisio_

He'd named it with deliberation; 'heart break'. It had two main phases; the torture phase, and the killing phase. The caster could decide how long to maintain either one, although the killing phase could not last for longer than a few seconds, since it focused on destroying the victim's torso completely. Hadrian hadn't yet been able to physically explode the entire body, but he was satisfied with the lion's horrific ending.

Creating the torture phase had been quite delightful to Hadrian. Not because he particularly liked torture, although he wasn't squeamish. It was because that one, unlike the killing phase, had to be designed to keep the victim alive, no matter how long under the curse.

Hadrian had studied torture curses extensively, especially the Cruciatus Curse. For being illegal, there were a lot of books about it in the Restricted Section. The main problem he'd found with it was its tendency to drive the victims insane after too little time. He'd decided this was due mainly to the fact that the spell focused on the brain. The books had elucidated this point extensively, going as far as actually explaining in terms of neurons and magical pathways how the Cruciatus went about with its job.

However, the technicalities of how the torture was carried out were rather brutish, in Hadrian's opinion. The terrible pain which characterized the curse was achieved through an overload of information into all sectors of the brain, through the magic, which in turn caused the brain to feel any and all stimulation—be it heat, touching, or even the skin itself—to feel like agony.

However, the brain was an extremely delicate organ. It was meant to be used like a scalpel, not the hammering ram that Cruciatus turned it into. Of course, it could only handle a few minutes without a few of the sectors shutting down, if not the entire thing.

Hadrian wanted his torture to be able to last for a while, without loosing the overall effectiveness of the Cruciatus. Granted, the Cruciatus was meant for battles and quick punishment, when it was not suitable to actually hold it for too long. That was when the killing phase of _Cor Inscisio _became marvelously useful; it did not need to actually be activated—the caster need only terminate the torture phase and the killing would begin, tearing through the heart and ribs and finally blowing up the chest. It could be held off for a while, but within 10 seconds the heart would give out and person would die anyways, if perhaps without the little explosion.

The only small problem Hadrian found with his curse was that the killing phase could not be held off. Once the curse was started, it terminated in the killing, and if the caster had by some mistake turned it against an ally, then there was no changing their mind. In that aspect, he almost preferred the actual Killing Curse than _Cor Inscisio_; with _Avada Kedavra_, the mistake was done and the sense of death was immediate. With _Cor Inscisio_, the victim was still alive when the caster realized his mistake. They could still be saved…except they couldn't.

He resisted the urge to kick the carcass as his left arm twitched in pain, reminding him of the long gash which he'd received from the animal's claws. It'd gotten in a lucky shot, when Hadrian was concentrating on casting a slightly more complex spell than necessary. Of course, he could have killed the lion with a well placed _Confringio_, or even _Arduo_. He'd done it before, once, when he'd been feeling particularly frustrated towards his own training. He lion had howled – Hadrian hadn't known they could do that – and then collapsed inside the raging inferno the spell had created. Hadrian would have enjoyed the spectacle more if it weren't for the smell of burning flesh which had emanated strongly from the fire, soaking into him in the close proximity. It'd taken three showers to get it off his skin, and the robes he'd been wearing he'd had to throw away.

"_Evanesco_", he said, waving the and lazily towards the body, which disappeared immediately along with the blood stains. He cast a _Scourgify _at the area, just in case, before looking at his arm.

There was a large, bloody gash, running from his shoulder to his elbow and staining the black robes, causing them to stick to the skin. He knew he was lucky not to have his arm torn to ribbons; since he'd decided it was a good idea to practice his skills on animals, the lion had become his foe of choice. It was fast, powerful, and lasted for quite a few spells. He'd never before gotten this seriously injured while training, but he wasn't particularly worried. He'd often healed smaller wounds, acquired through countless skirmishes in the darker streets of the Wizarding World, which he often found himself frequenting.

He wasn't rich. In fact, he had almost no money; he was attending Hogwarts on a trust fund which the Ministry provided to those with no money and no parents only. Hadrian fit both criteria, and so had received his Hogwarts letter on time, along with an envelope which explained his situation and the arrangement.

~o~o~

He'd soon found out that the trust fund covered only the actual school tuition; he was still expected to somehow pay for the books and robes. Hadrian marveled at this slightly ridiculous aspect of the contract, but had soon realized that the school's tuition alone – somewhere around 120 galleons a year, for seven years – was already a rather large amount, especially for the ministry to invest in someone like him, who might as well have no future as far as they were concerned.

Therefore, in need of money and with no time to actually gain some, he'd gone where many other had before him when in desperate need of money in a ridiculously short amount of time; Jaggerwalk Street. It was a smaller section of Knockturn alley which specialized in jobs which no one wanted to do, and which sometimes skipped over onto the other side of the law.

Hadrian had been extremely hesitant over this at first. He'd found out about Jaggerwalk from the shop-keeper at Burgin & Burkes, when he'd gone in asking for a job. The manager had taken one look at him, and turned him onto the other street, telling him that if he wanted money he'd better be prepared to do some nasty things.

Hadrian had never been very squeamish.

And so, within the month and a half that he'd had since he'd found Jaggerwalk until Hogwarts began, he'd become a consistent worker for Kyle, the manager of a small but well-known illegal magical items shop.

What made Hadrian a good shop assistant was that he was good at convincing people. He could within moments detect what the person was really looking for within the shop, despite what they might be saying, and showed it to them. If they didn't have something which fit the requirements, he'd tell Kyle, and Kyle would find it for the client. Most people who came to Kyle wanted a very specific item for a very specific aim, and Hadrian was rather talented at detecting exactly what that item was.

Kyle was a strange man. Hadrian liked him, personally, although he knew that the man was respected throughout Jaggerwalk. This, of course, meant he was feared, since there was no respect in these parts but what fear brought. Kyle had never physically harmed Hadrian, but the boy was not under any illusions that Kyle would refrain from it if he was given a reason. So far he'd worked hard not to give him one, and so they got along well.

The month he'd worked with Kyle had earned him enough money for the books and for the robes; it wouldn't have, normally, but Kyle valued Hadrian's ease with the customers, and so within a week of Hadrian's initial employment, he was given a raise. Despite being 11 at the time he started working, he wasn't easily intimidated by their customers, which was saying something when it was taken into account just what sort of people Kyle dealt with everyday.

~o~o~

Hadrian flicked his wand towards his shoulder, murmuring, "Episkey", watching the outer layer of skin bind itself slowly together over the smaller parts of the gash. The healing spell couldn't cure the larger wound which had rent his bicep, but it stopped the blood-flow as it helped to cure the smaller breaks inside the actual skin.

He flicked his wand again; "Accio Bandages." A roll of hospital white bandages emerged from a pack of utensils which he'd brought along. He bound it on his arm, pressing firmly so that the wound would not reopen as he walked. He tested the arm, and felt a rush of pain flay through him even as he clenched his jaws; it was a good sign that his arm was working, and healing.

He'd become good with patching himself up. Kyle had taught him many spells, and even a few Muggle techniques, such as how to use bandages when more advanced spells were not available. He'd learned a lot of things from Kyle, including the value of having a mask.

By now, Hadrian had known Kyle for 3 years; after his first employment, Kyle had offered him the option of returning to his shop each year during Hogwarts' vacation time. Hadrian had accepted, knowing that as far as summer jobs went, this was one of the best. Compared to any others, the pay was high and the customers were too afraid of Kyle to do anything but entertain Hadrian. He was also good at it, and by now he'd accumulated enough money to actually attend Hogwarts without returning to Kyle, by saving most of his pay and only using the least possible to buy his equipment.

He wouldn't though. He liked Kyle, and Kyle seemed to like him in turn. He'd given him the room upstairs the shop for when he worked there, after he'd found out that Hadrian had no place to stay at. It had become Hadrian's home, even after the short while which he'd stayed. Kyle was like the older brother he never had and, despite the fact that he'd never admit it out-loud, he almost loved the man.

They'd met on strange terms. Hadrian had been working at a bar for the past week, a place which he'd found easily and which had accepted him without asking too many questions; the pay was mediocre, but the tips were good. It was the people who went to the bar which made the entire experience rather unpleasant. Within the second day, Hadrian's strange beauty and youth had drawn in the pedophiles, and he'd found himself harassed at every turn. He withstood it in silence, determined to gain enough money to enter Hogwarts well equipped. He never planned to have to resort to such low measures again, and that was the main reason why he never complained – not that it would do much good in a place like this – even when one man literally snatched him from the floor and sat him on his lap. It was clearly breaking the barriers which even this bar, in Jaggerwalk Street, held; even so, it was not entirely unusual. The man looked very drunk, and at this time of night no one looked ready to help a boy in trouble anyways.

That had been the night when he'd met Kyle. The stranger had entered and sat at one of the tables alone, ordering something to drink. Hadrian had brought it over without much interest, flashing the young and unusually attractive man at the table a flirtatious smile; he'd soon figured that if the customers liked him, he'd get higher tips. It made him gag inside every time though, and he felt a little like throwing up when he curled up in the small couch which the manager of the bar let him sleep in every morning.

_It's all for the money. It's just a month._

The stranger had looked at him strangely. It wasn't unheard of to see an 11 year old working at a bar in Jaggerwalk, but Hadrian was a little unusual looking. He wasn't the beat-up street-brat which these bars usually attracted; even in the Magical world, the lower side of the street was an ugly place to be and Hadrian, with his pale skin and sharp features stood out like a sore thumb.

The man, drunken and evidently aroused, had leaned in to give Hadrian a kiss. The boy had wrenched away from the man's grasp, trying to get away even as the man pulled him close. The other men also sitting at the same table laughed at the spectacle; they were also completely drunk, but this didn't hide the fact that they also enjoyed seen Hadrian suffer at the hands of their friend.

Hadrian tried to get away, but he was thin and weak and young, and the man had no trouble pressing him close and drawing his face to his. His breath reeked of alcohol, and Hadrian gagged slightly as the man murmured sloppily in his ear; "You are…so sexy…how much?"

Hadrian, being 11 at the time, wasn't sure what the man meant by that statement. He did know, however, that whatever the man was planning, it would not end well for him. He twisted forcefully, but this only made the man moan in his ear. Hadrian shivered in disgust, feeling panic rise in his chest as the man's hand, which had settled in his back, began to go lower. He tensed, not knowing what to do. He didn't have a wand yet, and so magic was out of the question. He didn't know any spell, anyways.

"What do you think you're doing?"

A deep voice rang out beside them, and Hadrian twisted his head awkwardly to look up to the same man which he'd served earlier. His eyes widened, pleading wordlessly for help to this stranger in this moment of utter powerlessness. He did not have much hope; it was extremely rare that anyone would help someone in trouble while in Knockturn alley. People left each other alone; no one cared enough to interfere when they saw another in trouble.

The drunken man also turned to look at the stranger, his eyes narrowing in drunken anger.

"What…do you want?" He stumbled over his words. "I saw…him first! Get…another…one!"

The stranger's eyes blinked disinterestedly as they looked at Hadrian, ignoring the drunken man's outburst. Hadrian looked back, feeling decidedly uncomfortable even as the other man's hand had stopped lowering on his shirt. He did notice, however, that the drunk's friends had stopped laughing. One of them, the one which appeared at least a little more sober than the rest, suddenly gasped and pulled at the others.

"That's Kyle, guys!"

The man holding Hadrian had tensed at the name. Hadrian looked between the men, confused, which is why he was unprepared for when the man holding him suddenly pushed him off his lap and he fell onto the floor harshly, letting out a small gasp of pain. The man stood hurriedly, his eyes wide and unfocused through the intoxication, even as he backed away from Kyle.

"Oh man…Kyle, yeah? He's yours…'course…" he suddenly stumbled, and his friends, who had also stood up, went over and hurriedly supported him. Hadrian stood quickly, taking a step away from this man who, without taking any offensive measures, was able to inspire such fear into even drunken men. He noticed amusedly that none of the people in the bar were looking in their direction, apart from one of the other waiters, who looked more worried over the prospect of a brawl than anything else.

The group of men looked at Kyle worriedly; as if afraid that he would suddenly attack them. Kyle's expression did not change as he suddenly turned to Hadrian, who tensed as the man reached over a hand and placed it on his shoulder. The grip was light but steady.

"Come with me."

Hadrian felt scared. He wasn't one to be intimidated by people, but as the man's hand had touched his shoulder, he'd felt a rush of dark power emanating from the man, a wave of Dark Magic which caused a shiver down his back.

He allowed the other man to lead him back to his table, where he'd first brought him the drink. The man sat down, and gestured to Hadrian to do the same. Usually, he would have told him that he had work to do and could not afford to slack off, but the man's hard gaze compelled him and he sat down.

"What is your name, child?"

Hadrian pressed his hands together to keep them from shaking. "Hadrian Dawson, sir."

Kyle nodded. "Where are your parents, Hadrian?"

Hadrian shook his head. "I don't know. I think they're dead."

Kyle leaned back slightly as he looked at Hadrian. Hadrian suddenly felt a spark of magic around him; he tensed, then suddenly realized that they were privacy wards, so they would not be overheard.

"How old are you, Hadrian?"

Hadrian hesitated. "11."

"You are rather young to be working here. Are you going to Hogwarts?"

"Yes, sir. I start this year."

"So you are working here to get enough money to buy the school robes and books?"

Hadrian met the man's gaze, feeling distinctly uncomfortable in this questioning but not daring to question Kyle in turn.

"Yes, sir."

Kyle gave him a searching look, as if he thought Hadrian was not telling him the truth. Hadrian kneaded his hands as the silence stretched.

"Would you like to work for me, then?"

Hadrian tensed. "Work for you?" he said, his voice low and unassuming.

Kyle nodded. "I run a small shop further down Jaggerwalk. I sell magical items in it, and lately I have come to be in need of an assistance who could help me with my customers. Would you be interested?"

Hadrian tried to detect a lie in the man, but found none. He was aware of the troubles which a young child like him could get into. Within three hours of stumbling into Jaggerwalk he'd been attacked by two pedophiles, which he'd only managed to evade by hiding inside a shop. He'd soon found out that while the streets were incredibly unsafe, the shops themselves were actually decent places, as far as Jaggerwalk went.

Kyle seemed to be sincere in his question, but this did not stop Hadrian from doubting.

"Why would you want an 11 year old helping you in your shop?"

"Because you have nowhere else to go, know no magic, and are basically defenseless, so you would not try to steal from me at all. You need only the money required by Hogwarts, and I have that for you. I need an assistant, and you appear to do well with people." He gestured to the bar. "I will pay you 5 galleons a week, plus one for food, which I am certain is more than they pay you here. Furthermore, I will allow you to stay at the empty room above the shop. I live nearby, but I need someone closer in case of emergencies." He took a sip of his drink. "What will it be?"

Hadrian considered, but he knew that there really wasn't much to consider. If the man was lying, he'd simply leave. Besides, even with tips, the pay at the bar came up around 2 galleons per week, and this did not include food, as Kyle was so generously offering. Hadrian nodded.

"Well then, let's go now."

~o~o~

Hadrian arrived back in his dorm room a little before dinner, noting that most people were still studying or finishing homework during these few hours of free-time. He assumed that the other Houses would be perhaps playing or gossiping, but in the House of Ravenclaw, most were pouring over their notes and projects and there was barely any talking.

He shuffled up the stairs to his room, feeling his left arm throb in pain over the wound. He hoped that it wouldn't scar; he had a few potions in his trunk to heal over the wound which Kyle had gifted him, but he'd already left it untreated for a little while; he hoped they would still work well.

He reached his room without meeting any other students, and went over to his trunk hurriedly. He saw a note had been left on it, and placed it on his bed. He'd read it as soon as he was finished with the potions.

He grimaced as the trunk's heavy lid jarred his arm. He really should be more careful with what he played with, but he refused to choose something less dangerous than the large feline. True, he'd never before gotten this hurt, but it was only a matter of time before the beast got another lucky shot in. Even so, Hadrian did not want to battle anything which he did not feel actually threatened his life. If he could not learn to control his nerves in life-threatening situations, then there was no point to this training.

He drank a blood-replenishing potion first, before opening a smaller vial which contained a white, sticky fluid and spreading a bit on his arm. The liquid quickly absorbed into the skin, leaving the area numb as the muscle began to visibly reattach. It was a rare, extremely potent healing potion which Hadrian had received as his 13th birthday gift from Kyle a few months ago. He almost never had reason to use it, and now as he watched it sow through the tear in moments, he marveled at the power of magic.

The salve stitched up the actual wound, but he could still feel a stubborn throb and so he re-bandaged his arm. Then he turned to the note which he'd placed on his bed, climbing inside after closing and locking his trunk and placing a few privacy wards around him.

The letter read simply;

_Dawson,_

_Meet me at my quarters directly after dinner. We have a few things to discuss._

There was no signature, but Hadrian immediately knew it was from Snape. He felt a vague excitement curl in his stomach at the words; today after dinner he'd finally get a chance to ask Snape a few things.

He was under no delusions that he would be given all the information which he asked for, even while being a member of the Militia. He wanted to know, however, what his role would play out and how it might affect his school and private life. He also wanted to know if he was allowed to tell Kyle of his inclusion. He hoped that he would not have to hide anything from the man, more out of knowing that the man would find out anyways.

And what if Kyle himself found out? Then it was not by Hadrian's will. In any case, none of the conditions stated anything against telling Kyle of the organization, as long as he did it without any ill will for it.

He looked at the short note again, then flicked his wand and said, "Tempus". It was already dinner, and with his arm no longer posing a problem, he burned the note with a light _Arduo_ and then hurried downstairs.

He reached the Main Hall and shuffled over to the Ravenclaw table, sitting down at his customary seat at the edge of the table closest to the door. He helped himself to some of the potatoes, slowly eating as he hunched over the table, his movements uncoordinated and clumsy. He raised his gaze to the teacher's table, spotting Snape, who was looking in his direction. He nodded slightly and Snape turned away, knowing it meant that Hadrian had received the note.

"Hadrian!"

At the sudden and rather loud voice, Hadrian jumped a little, even as he mentally cataloged that the other boy could be rather sneaky when he wanted to be. He turned and looked beside him, towards the larger Hufflepuff who had suddenly appeared. The boy had tawny blonde hair and dark eyes, and he was a good 5 inches taller than Hadrian; he placed an arm around the smaller boy, who tensed slightly even as he forced his muscles to unclench under the unexpected touch.

"Hi, Claude," he said, his voice low and nervous, even as inside he sighed in annoyance as he resisted the urge to push the other boy's arm off him. _What _terrible_ timing._

"Hey. Are you doing anything later?"

Hadrian bit back his frown as he looked downward and away from Claude's gaze. _Yes. _"Um…I need to finish a project for Potions…"

Claude frowned. "A project? We don't have a project…or, do you mean the one due in a week?"

"Yeah…"

"It's due in a _week_, Hadrian. You could finish it in a day." He looked at the smaller boy with amusement. "Anyways, we're having a party over at Hufflepuff. I know you don't really like those but I've been meaning to introduce you to…"

Hadrian let out a soft sigh of annoyance. If it were not for Claude Danvers and his strange and unexpected fixation with him, he'd be completely invisible. The 3rd year Hufflepuff had become acquainted with him through rather surprising means; the library. Hadrian still couldn't understand why the boy hadn't been placed in Ravenclaw, when he loved books about as much as Hadrian did, but he supposed that it had to do with his loyalty to his family. The boy was part of one of the riches pureblood families in Europe, but due to his position in the Hufflepuff House, he was often underestimated and left out of the other Pureblood circles which were mostly either in Slytherin or Gryffindor. Hadrian himself could not understand why the boy let it remain so; excepting Malfoy, Hadrian did not doubt that Claude was more capable of being a family head than any of the other young Purebloods. He was clever, cunning and entirely loyal to his family; most of the older Purebloods respected him somewhat, despite what the situation was like at Hogwarts.

He was also the only person in Hogwarts which Hadrian might have considered a friend; since their second year, when Claude had initiated a conversation with the more than reluctant Hadrian in the library, they'd developed a strange sort of acquaintance; they weren't exactly friends, but they helped each other with school-work and every one in a while Claude would try to intrude into Hadrian's self-imposed isolation and bring the boy into his own circle of friends. Hadrian put up with it because the boy was actually rather smart and quite entertaining company, and because once they left Hogwarts would be a powerful ally. He didn't appreciate it, though, when Claude attempted to bring him out to the public.

This was one of those times, and while usually Hadrian might have agreed to appear at the party for a little while, if only to test his mask around more people and to please the boy, he now had his little meeting with Snape.

"I'm sorry, Claude. I really have to work on the project. I'm doing a bit of extra work to make up from a potion I botched last week."

Claude looked at him carefully. Hadrian knew that Claude did not believe him, but would not question what he would actually be doing. The reason their friendship had lasted as long as it did was because Claude did not question Hadrian and did not dig where it was clear that Hadrian did not want him to.

Hadrian's mask was not made up to hold under close scrutiny. The amount of time he spent with Claude had made it crack a few times, but the other boy had never pushed and so Hadrian and he had stayed as friends. Eventually, Claude nodded.

"Oh well. Good luck with that, then. I'll see you tomorrow." He stood up then and walked over to the Hufflepuff table, sitting in the middle of his group of friends. Hadrian did not watch him go, but he felt Snape's eyes focus on him. He did not look up.

Dinner would end in a few minutes, and then he knew he and Snape would have plenty of time to talk.


End file.
